


Obscure No More

by PaleandBroodingsGirl



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) RPF, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Past Character Death, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleandBroodingsGirl/pseuds/PaleandBroodingsGirl
Summary: Polyjuice Potion is used, and what was obscure is obscure no more.





	Obscure No More

The year is 1913.   
Professor Black (thirty, single, handsome, and Head of Slytherin) stands opposite from Leta outside the Headmaster’s office, his eyes downcast.   
He never seems to notice Leta, but with her striking, brown eyes; glossy, raven locks; pristine, mocha skin; and shapely, seventeen-year-old body, she’s undeniably beautiful.   
A throat clears; Professor Dumbledore, who is exiting the Headmaster’s office, catches Leta ogling Professor Black. The familiar, knowing gleam is present in Dumbledore’s eyes, and Leta blushes furiously as Dumbledore conveys that Newt (her best friend) has been expelled.   
Professor Black nods and departs. Leta’s eyes follow his form down the corridor until he’s gone.   
“I was happy to…collude with Mr. Scamander on your behalf, Miss Lestrange,” Dumbledore says gently. “As it happens, I require your assistance.”  
The ‘assistance’, Leta learns thereafter, is sleuthing. Though he doesn’t say it outright, she must do it—unless she would rather that she, not Newt, be expelled for her unsanctioned experimentation and illegal possession of a Jarvey, and that can’t happen. Graduating and passing her N.E.W.T.s are crucial to evading her father’s clutch.   
“Our collaboration will be mutually beneficial, I assure you,” Dumbledore says, eyes twinkling.

Near midnight, lines memorized, parfum applied, and the thin, old-fashioned nightgown that Dumbledore supplied donned, Leta pinches her nose and knocks back the vial of Polyjuice Potion. Presently, she admires herself in the mirror; long, blonde hair frames her lovely, ivory face, and blue eyes twinkle with excitement.  
Leta makes her way to a certain door and doesn’t bother knocking. The quarters are lit by the fireplace and numerous candles, shadows playing on the walls. Surmising that she looks angelic—or ghostly—with her lacy, white nightgown and ivory skin, she’s sure that it was Dumbledore’s intention.  
Professor Black, clutching an empty bottle of Firewhiskey, is asleep in a chair. Kneeling before him, Leta caresses his cheeks, lips, the bridge of his aristocratic nose. Her pale fingers comb through his thick, dark, wavy mane. Her dainty nails scratch sensually on his scalp. Never having been so close to him, she’s elated but trembling.  
“Phineas,” she says with a lilt. His given name on her lips is thrilling. Her hands slide to his chest—chiseled, as she’d imagined—and she kisses him. “Phineas. It’s me.”  
Phineas rouses and takes in the vision of the girl—long dead—before him.  
Letting out a cry, he asks, “Is it really you, my love?”   
“Yes, love,” Leta coos.   
Hastily pulling her into his lap, Phineas kisses and caresses her. Leta returns his attentions; what she lacks in experience she makes up for with exuberance.  
Between kisses, she says, “Remind me…of us, Phin,” sticking to her scripted words from Dumbledore.   
The professor nods exuberantly, lavishing kisses upon her lips, face, and neck as he speaks. “We loved…wanted to marry…I still do…I miss you…I ache for you…” Phineas’ hands freely roam her body.  
“Tell me about the last time you saw me, Phin,” Leta cajoles.  
Phineas whines as he sucks on her clavicle. “The birth…I feigned…Dragon Pox to get…out of school…I hated…hiding you….leaving you.”  
Leta gasps, and Phineas pulls her closer, making the nightgown a mere formality. Leta’s most sensitive spots brush Phineas’ intimately, and her consciousness and focus lapse momentarily.   
“Why did you leave, my love?” she whispers with fluttering eyelids as she scratches Phineas’ scalp and twirls her fingers in his curls. He moans with pleasure.  
“To take the…baby…to your…Aunt Honoria…before your…brothers…came home…for the funeral.”   
Baby? Funeral? Dumbledore told me nothing about either.  
“Whose funeral, love?”  
“Your mother’s.”   
“Right. Remind me what happened, love?”  
“Your magic…escaped you…during labor…and…killed her—” Phineas suddenly grasps Leta’s face in his hands, his eyes wide, his expression wretched, and his voice desperate. “You didn’t mean it, love! You couldn’t help it!”  
“Shh, love. It’s alright.” She caresses Phineas’ cheeks and jaw, the black stubble deliciously scratching her palms. Not knowing what to say next, Leta places Phineas’ hands on her buttocks, inducing his stupor once more and letting herself get lost in the sensations of carnal pleasures before pondering her next move.   
“Remind me why the baby had to go.”   
“Your magic…could have…escaped again…hurt the baby…not safe with…me and Abe”  
Abe?  
“…going back to…finish…at Hogwarts…and Albus”  
Albus!  
“…plotting with that…fool, Gellert.”   
Gellert?   
“So, I took…our baby—and…left you—and they killed you, Ari!” Phineas sobs.  
Tears gather in Leta’s eyes. “Shh, I’m here, love. I’m here.”   
She attacks his lips; Phineas lets her, moving her slowly in his lap. Leta moans.  
“Phin…where did…the…baby…go?”  
Breathily, Phineas replies, “With your Aunt…after he was…weaned…to New York…City…to your…mother’s family—but—” Phineas’ voice cracks, “the ship sank! Your Aunt…our baby—” Phineas sobs into Leta’s shoulder “—he drowned, Ariana! I’m so sorry, love!”  
Horrified, Leta strokes his scalp, murmuring, “Shhh, love…It wasn’t your fault. I…forgive you, Phineas.”   
A ship sinking. A baby—her half-brother—floating away. The silky, white swaddling blanket unfolding around him like wings…a bird rising from the water.  
Leta’s mouth goes dry. “W-what,” she stutters dazedly. Her voice is rough, and she’s shaking. “What was the year?”  
“1901.”  
The same year.  
“His name?” she croaks.  
“Aurelius…Aurelius Phineas Dumbledore Black,” Phineas replies with a deep sigh of lament.  
The baby, quiet and swaddled in cloth embroidered with ‘A.B.’—the baby that she, at age five, had switched with her own brother—was Dumbledore’s nephew and Phineas’ son—and he survived the sinking of that ship! She’d saved him!  
Perhaps…Leta will learn to forgive herself, now. Perhaps...Phineas will, too. Perhaps…a vial of Polyjuice Potion just changed their lives. Only time will tell, but, surely, what was obscure is obscure no more.


End file.
